Ransom Demand
by Peggie
Summary: A young Bruce Wayne has been kidnapped. The problem is Bruce does not intend to be anyone’s victim.


Disclaimer: DC Comics and Time/Warner own All the characters; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.

Ransom Demand

By

Peggie

Alfred watched as the young man practised another high kick. The boy had suspended a small rubber ball in a net from the branch of the oak tree so that it was a good four feet off the ground. For the last few days had spent hours doing high kicks trying to hit the ball. He certainly seemed to have master the art. If he had been home in London, Alfred would have thought the lad was practising his soccer skills. Perfecting high back kicks to send the ball over his head into the goal, just as Alfred had seen his hero Geoff Goodson do in the cup final his father had taken him to when he was a young boy. But this was Gotham and soccer didn't interest the lad. Alfred was puzzled as to why the boy was spending so much time mastering this one, as far as he could see pointless skill. At first the lad had ended up flat on his back every time he tried this manoeuvre. Now he did it right nearly every time.

"Did you see Alfred, I managed to hit the ball 98% of the time." He said with obvious pride. "Mind you he I only made good contact with the target 62% of the time." He added honestly. "With a bit more practice I will be able to hit it right every time."

Alfred smiled at his young charge. "Yes sir, I've been most impressed by your determination to master this skill. But, if you don't mind me asking sir, what's it in aid of?" Alfred had a puzzled frown on his face.

Bruce just smiled. "You'll see Alfred, you'll see." the boy answered giving his friend an enigmatic smile.

Bruce had showered and changed after his morning run. Alfred had timed the boy from leaving the house to returning from his four-mile circuit. "That was your fastest time yet Master Bruce. I hope you are going to join the school Athletics team this year." he said with a smile. "You've certainly got the potential to be a star member of the team. To my reckoning you have shaved at least two minutes of the County Junior record for the five thousand metres, almost three minutes off the ten thousand and you've shattered the under eighteen's cross country record. The school coach would be over the moon to know that." 

Bruce eyed his friend carefully. "I forbid you to tell the coach Alfred." he said "Or anyone else." he added knowing Alfred's ability to follow orders to the letter, while still managing to do what he considered the right thing. He had learned long ago to make sure he gave Alfred exact orders, giving him no possible ways to circumvent Bruce's wishes.

The man sighed, "Master Bruce if you joined the Athletics team you would get proper coaching and more importantly you would make some new friends."

Bruce looked at Alfred and scowled "I don't need any friends."

"Master Bruce everyone needs friends!" 

The boy smiled, "I've got you and Leslie, I don't need anyone else."

Although Alfred was touched by Bruce's sentiment he was also worried. He knew the boy's attempts to make friends in the past had not been successful, but it wasn't natural for a boy to be as insular as Bruce was. He had discussed the problem with Leslie Thompkins, Bruce's doctor and a friend to both of them. Leslie had agreed with Alfred the that boy should have friends his own age, but like Alfred she was at a loss as to how to make the young man see this. 

As Alfred cooked breakfast the boy sat at the table and watched his friend work. "Alfred, I am thinking of having a 50 metre swimming pool built near the guest house." Bruce said in a matter of fact tone.

"Very well Sir," the butler said, "I will get the builders in to give estimates. I assume you want it built to Olympic specifications."

Bruce nodded.

"I will then try to explain to the trustees, why Wayne Manor requires a third swimming pool. I suppose I could claim that we turned the smaller one into a water feature for the garden!" Alfred added in his usual dry way. "A few rubber ducks and a fountain in the middle could disguise it. "

Bruce smiled at his friend's humour. He could smell Alfred was cooking his favourite breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs and biscuits. As they sat down together, the boy to eat and Alfred to drink his tea, Bruce asked his butler a question that had always interested him. "Alfred do you have many friends?"

"Not many I see on a regular basis, no not these days. But I do have quiet a few I stay in contact with, by letter." 

Bruce thought about his friend's life as butler at Wayne Manor. He suddenly realised how little free time Alfred had. Bruce had never thought about it before, but now that he did, he saw it was a full time task looking after him and maintaining the house. Alfred hardly ever got to take an evening off, because Bruce was always at home. When he did have a day off, he usually took Bruce with him, because there was no one else at the Manor to take care of him. He suddenly felt quite guilty about that. "You know Alfred I think I may join the Karate and Judo clubs at school this year." He noted his friend's smile.

"That sir, would be an excellent way to get to meet new friends!" the man said evidently pleased.

Bruce smiled back, he wasn't joining to make friends. He was joining to learn to fight. Bruce intended never again to be a victim of crime. He also wanted to give his friend the opportunity to have an evening to do what he wanted once in a while.

"You want me to order what sir?" the butler asked his young employer as he removed the breakfast dishes from the table. "Did I hear you say you wanted four life size manikins?" The boy nodded. "And why do you want four replica guns may I ask?

Again the boy smiled that annoying half smile that meant he had no intention of telling his friend until he was good and ready.

Alfred sighed, "Very well sir, will this afternoon be soon enough for you?" 

Smiling the boy nodded. "That would be great Alfred, thanks you."

Fiarbrothers had delivered the manikins by two. Alfred had already taken Bruce to the city, that morning, to purchased four different replica guns. The boy had insisted that they be shown the real guns as well as the replicas. He seemed as much interested in the feel of the guns as in their look.

"I bet you can't wait to get your hands on the real thing can you son?" the shopkeeper had said. "Nothing like the power of a gun to give a man the edge."

Bruce had sort of smiled at the storekeeper. Alfred had noted the boy was on the verge of tears. He had quickly paid for their purchase and left. 

"Those places should be shut down." Bruce had muttered as they got into the car.

Bruce had unconsciously got into the front seat of the Rolls, a clear sign he was upset. Alfred put his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Bruce even in England, where you cannot legally purchase guns, criminals can get hold of them if they want to. I doubt Mr Wilton sells guns to known criminals."

The boy wiped his eyes on the handkerchief his friend gave him. "Sorry Alfred," he said, "I just hate guns."

Alfred kept his arm around the boy until he seemed to be in control of himself. He refrained from asking the question that was at the forefront of his mind. He knew Bruce hated guns, so why had they just purchased four replicas? As soon as the boy had recovered Alfred started the car and drove back to the Manor. 

Still puzzled Alfred watched Bruce set up the manikins in the ballroom. Shaking his head he went off to carry on cleaning the study. After about ten minutes he could hear a series of loud thuds. Alfred hurried back to the ballroom. Bruce was setting up the manikins again. Each one had been positioned so that it held a gun. Bruce then set about kicking the guns from the manikin's hands. Now, Alfred understood what the young Master had been up to all these weeks, not that he was very pleased by the turn of events. For a twelve-year-old, the boy had an unhealthy fascination for crime, and crime fighting, in Alfred's opinion. 

Bruce saw the disapproval in his friend's face, he needed for Alfred to understand, the man's approval was very important to the boy. "See Alfred, being able to disarm a gunman in this way will be a useful skill." the boy said with determination. "No one is going to point a gun and get to fire it while I am in striking distance. No one is going to get shot while I am close enough to stop it." he said through gritted teeth. " I should have done this, I should have tried to.." tears started running down the boys face. 

Alfred pulled the young man into his arms and hugged him tight. "I understand son, I do understand. It wasn't your fault, you were only a little lad you couldn't have stopped the gunman that night. You weren't big enough or strong enough." Alfred told the boy while holding him close.

After a few minutes Bruce pulled away from his friends comforting embrace. He wiped his arm across his eyes. "Well I am now, and I am not going to let anyone else get killed while I am around." With that the boy ran off.

Alfred sighed, "I just pray young man, you never find a need to be close enough to a gunman ever again to use your newly mastered skill!" he said quietly to himself.

In many ways Alfred was pleased that the long summer holidays were nearly over. He enjoyed having Bruce at home, but he found the boys solitary life worrying. Alfred had tried to get the boy to consider spending at least a week at camp but without success. He'd also tried to encourage Bruce to invite friends over to the Manor. But Bruce didn't have or want any friends. He spent the major part of the holiday on his fitness-training program, practising disarming skills and reading. At least once a week Alfred took the boy on an outing to the beach or Fun Park. He also arranged for the lad to help Dr Leslie at the clinic. It was Alfred's greatest hope that working at the clinic would encourage the boy to follow in his father's footsteps and become a doctor.

"Oh, Alfred," Leslie Thompkins had said on their last visit, when he had voiced his concerns, "you worry too much. Bruce is only twelve, of course after what he went through he has a fixation on stopping crime. He'll grow out of it." She had smiled at him in a reassuring way.

The problem was Alfred wasn't convinced. Although Leslie spent as much time as she could spare with the boy, she didn't have care of him twenty-four hours a day like he did. She didn't see the boy's driven and determined attitude to learning new crime fighting skills.

Anyway today was the day they would be at the clinic. Alfred smiled to himself, he could stop worrying about what the boy was doing for once.

The Rolls was not the right car to take to the clinic. In a run down area like Park Row, known locally as Crime Alley, the Rolls would stand out like a sore thumb. So they always took Alfred's battered old Ford when they visited Leslie. Alfred had bought the car just for visiting Dr Thompkins, it was much more in keeping with the area. Like Park Row itself the car had seen better days. 

They had just pulled up at the back of the clinic and were walking towards the back door when four men approached them. Alfred felt his mouth go dry. He grabbed Bruce and pushed him behind him so that the boy was shielded. He had not expected to get mugged so close to the clinic. Even though this was a rough area most people respected Doctor Leslie and the work she did. They tried to keep trouble away from her door. 

"Look if its money you want, I am just going to slip my hand in my pocket and get my wallet. Ok, it's yours. No trouble, no worries. Just take it and leave the lad and me alone Ok."

The man closest to him laughed. 

"And they said to watch out for the old guy because he might give trouble!" the man in front of Alfred said to his companions. His hand shot out and snatched the wallet, and then he threw it back at a puzzled Alfred. "Keep it we want something more valuable." The other two men grabbed Bruce. The boy put up a valiant struggle. A swift kick in the groin had one man on the floor trying to catch his breath. Bruce had then punched another thug, but the man managed to spray something into Bruce's face making him pass out.

Alfred was also fighting hard. He had felled the man to his left with a karate chop to the neck. He swiftly hit the thug who had laughed at him knocking a gold filled front tooth clean out of the man's jaw. Swinging around he turned his attention to the man who had hold of Bruce, just as he was about to hit him the world seem to explode into stars, an excruciating pain began to fill his head, before merciful blackness started to envelope him. Just before blacking out Alfred saw the men load Bruce into the back of a White van. He tried to get to his feet but collapsed back down on to the floor. 

Alerted by the screeching of the van's tyres Doctor Leslie and her nurse hurried out of the back door. It wasn't unknown for patients to be dumped on the back step of the clinic so as to avoid awkward questions. Leslie stopped short and caught her breath at the sight of her friend laid on the floor, blood was flowing freely from a wound on the back of his head. She scanned the area looking for Bruce, but couldn't see him anywhere. Quickly she ran down the steps and knelt down next to Alfred. 

"White van," he muttered "they put Bruce in a white van." With that he lost consciousness again. 

"Sherry, ring the police," Leslie called to the young volunteer helper who had just appeared at the back door with a group of patients, "tell them there's been a kidnapping."

Two young men helped Leslie carry Alfred into the clinic. Examining her friend she found a note stuffed into his hand. Reading it she felt cold, it was a ransom demand. 

Bruce woke up in the van. He felt sick. At first he panicked he couldn't see or move. He started to struggle. He felt someone touch his arm. "Lay still or you'll hurt yourself." a voice a growled in his ear. Bruce realised he was tied up and blindfolded. He began to relax and set to work on loosening the ropes on his hands.

Lieutenant Jim Gordon had been in Gotham less than a month, yet he already knew the city to be every bit as dangerous as the newspapers claimed. Transferring to Gotham from Chicago had helped him gain promotion early. At twenty-eight he was very young to be a Lieutenant. But he had already proved himself to his new colleagues, they knew him to be a good, honest detective, something the Gotham Police Department was in desperate need of. As he and Bullock pulled up outside the clinic he was wondering why anyone would bring a young millionaire to such a dangerous place. The area was even known as Crime Alley. 

They entered the building into what appeared to be a waiting room. The wooden benches around the walls were full of people patiently waiting. They all had one thing in common an air of despair. It didn't take a genius to see these were societies forgotten people. They were dressed poorly and many looked underfed. Some started to quietly leave as they recognised the police. 

Leslie was call to meet them. Gordon had heard of Dr Thompkins, a formidable woman doctor who was always fighting for the rights of the poor. When he saw her he was surprised. She was a tiny woman who looked like a gust of wind would blow her away. She also looked like she had been crying.

A general mutter of sympathy went around the room.

Leslie led the two detectives to her office and showed them the note.

Gordon's eyes narrowed as he read it. "You told the Officer that a witness had seen a white van. I'll need to get more details from him." 

"That won't be possible Lieutenant, he's had a serious head injury.

"How soon will I be able to speak to him?" Gordon asked angrily. The last thing he needed was an obstructive doctor. He noted Leslie's eyes had filled with tears.

"Who knows with a serious head injury," she said, " an hour, a day, a week or maybe never." she added quietly. 

Leslie escorted the two detectives to a small side room. A young woman was sat next to the bed, keeping an eye on the patient. Gordon looked at the man laid in the bed his head was bandaged. "Any change Sherry?" Leslie asked. The young woman shook her head.

"The danger in these cases is of internal bleeding causing the brain to swell. We won't know for certain if he will make it for at least 48 hours. Even if he recovers consciousness in that time he still could develop complications." Gordon noted the way the Doctor touched the patient's face. There was obviously more to their relationship that just casual friendship.

"Why were they here?" Bullock asked. "It's hardly the kind of place you'd expect to find a millionaire."

Leslie explained about the clinic and Bruce's father starting it. How she and Alfred had hoped working here would interest the boy in medicine.

They had treated him well so far. He had been blindfolded and tied up in the van. They had carried him into the building up stone steps from the sound of them. The echoing footsteps suggested they were walking through a large enclosed space possible a factory or warehouse. When the blindfold was removed he found himself and two men in a small windowless room. Both his captures wore masks. Bruce wasn't frightened so much as angry. The anger was keeping his fear in check. "Calm down." the smaller man said. "Just as soon as your guardian pays up you're out of here."

He was trying to make out what the bright light and pink blob were that kept appearing in front of his face. Every time he thought he knew what he was seeing the black shadows crept in to hide them from him. Finally he woke up and could make out Leslie's worried face. She was bending over him looking closely at how his pupils were reacting to a penlight.

"At last," she said with evident relief, "I thought you were never going to make the effort."

Alfred tried to sit up and was hit by a wave of nausea. Leslie pushed him back down on to the pillow. "You lie still until I've checked you out."

They went through a bank of tests and questions before coming to the vital one. "Alfred, do you remember what happened?" Leslie and the young man with her were looking at him intensely, this was obviously an important question. Suddenly he did, "Bruce," he said, "they grabbed Bruce!" Taking both his friend and the man by surprise he had thrown back the covers and stood up. Blackness once again claimed him. Deftly Lieutenant Gordon caught the man before hit the floor.

Ten minutes later he had once again managed to fight his way out of the blackness. Two very concerned faces were looking at him. "You try that again," Leslie said, "and I will sedate you, either that or tie you to the bed. You are going nowhere for at least 48 hours."

"Bruce, …but they've taken Bruce, I've got to find him!" As he struggled to rise again the thickset man placed his hands on Alfred's shoulders and forced him back.

"Finding the boy is my job Mr Pennyworth, not yours, especially not in your condition." 

Leslie looked at her friend with evident concern. "This is Lieutenant Gordon he's in charge of the case." She looked closely at her friend and took his hand. "Bruce has been kidnapped.. they want a.. two million dollars ransom." She saw him close his eyes, Leslie didn't think he could look any paler then he already did but on hearing her words his face seemed to get whiter almost deathly. 

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Fourteen hours." Gordon said.

"They've had him fourteen hours, oh my God. What have you done about it! Why haven't you found him." Alfred demanded. 

Gordon looked at Alfred with hurt eyes, "Believe me Mr Pennyworth, we've been doing our best."

"Yes, that's what they said when they failed to find the killer of the lads parents!" Alfred said. "Please forgive me if I don't have much faith in the Gotham City Police."

Bruce was watching the two men sat at the table through half closed eyes. He was laid on a rather smelly mattress his hands tied by fairly long ropes to a radiator. They had tied him up after he'd tried to escape while left on his own with just one of the men. He had managed to kick the smaller of the two men and nearly made it to the door. Just as he had been about to escape the large man returned. Bruce had tried to dodge around him but for such a large man he was quick. He had grabbed Bruce by the collar and lifted him off the floor. Bruce had struggled and kicked, his foot connecting satisfyingly with the man's stomach. The blow had hardly seemed to bother the thug. He'd slapped Bruce hard across the face, rocking the boy's head to one side and leaving an angry red mark on his cheek. Bruce hadn't cried he'd been furious. He'd just spit into the man's face. That had resulted in the thug throwing him back into the other mans arms. 

After that they had dragged Bruce over to the mattress and tied him to a radiator, they had tried to force two tablets down his throat. Bruce had at first struggled. Then he became cunning and pretended to swallow them. He gave a performance Alfred would have been proud of. He had put on an act of struggling to stay awake then convincingly lost consciousness, just as Alfred had taught him to do for school drama classes. His drama teacher had been so convinced by Bruce's performance he'd actually sent for the school nurse. Seeing as Bruce had convinced a Mr. Cunningham, a trained actor, he had known these two would be an easy audience to fool. Convinced that he was unconscious, the men talked freely. 

While he laid still he listened for clues. He had trained himself to remember every detail of a conversation. So he listened hard making sure he hear every word. 

"You hit the guy too hard, I told you we needed the guy roughed up. He's the boys guardian, he's the one who will pay the money out." 

Bruce listened with concern, since waking up he had asked the men about Alfred. They had just told him that he was Ok. Bruce had assumed they had used the same gas on his friend that they had used on him. Now they were saying they had hit him too hard, was Alfred all right?

"Our contact at the clinic says he's still out of it. The Doc is very worried, thinks the guy could have a fractured skull, and may be even brain damage. Why the hell did you hit him so hard?"

Bruce had flinched hearing those words. But managed to keep his panic in check.

"He knocked my tooth out." the large man whined, "I wasn't about to let him get away with that."

Bruce heard a phone ring. The small man left the room. The large thug came over and pushed his toe into Bruce's side. The boy played dead making no sign of being aware of the man.

"What are you doing?" the small man asked with concern as he entered the room.

"Just checking he hadn't woken up that's all." the man growled.

"No way, Sherry said those tablets would Knock a kid his size out for at least six hours. By the way that was her on the phone, the guy you hit has come round. He's still not out of the woods, she says the Doc's still worried, but it's a good sign. The only problem is now we've got the FBI on our case."

The two FBI agents had been questioning Alfred for the last twenty minutes. "So apart from the gold tooth you cannot give us any other description?" 

Alfred had shaken his head only to regret his actions as he was hit by a fresh bout of nausea.

"What about this van you claim to have seen?" the younger man asked. "All you can say is medium sized and white. That's not much of a description." 

Gordon was looking at the two slick dressed agents with distaste. They had obviously decided that this was an inside job and that the butler had done it! "Mr Pennyworth was hardly in a position to take down details Agent West. One of the men had just tried splitting his skull with the butt of a gun." Gordon remarked hardly able to keep the contempt out of his voice.

"And nearly succeeded." Leslie added her voice tinged with anger. She too could see what these two young fools were thinking. She was just glad Alfred was not well enough to realise where their questions were leading. He was pinning his hopes on the FBI finding Bruce. She knew after the fiasco that had passed for an investigation into Thomas and Martha's deaths he had no time for the Gotham City Police. But she had been most impressed with Gordon and his rather scruffy sidekick Bullock.

Suddenly Alfred looked exhausted, the Adrenaline he had been running on seemed to have given out. He slumped back against his pillow. "It obvious Alfred can not give you any more details so for the moment I must ask you to leave my patient to rest." Leslie said eyeing her friend with concern.

"We've still got a lot of questions we need to ask," Agent Foster said. "I must insist we carry on questioning Mr Pennyworth."

Leslie met the young man's steely glare with her own. "Oh no, young man, you are going to leave him alone to rest for at least four hours."

"I don't think you understand madam.." the agent started. 

"I understand perfectly young man," Leslie replied crisply, " and you're wrong in your assumptions, very wrong. Now you will leave my patient alone and you will leave my clinic. Get out there and find Bruce!" she said tears of worry, anger and frustration running down her cheeks.

The two young men knew they had met their match. While Leslie checked on Alfred, Gordon, Bullock and the two agents stood outside the door.

"He obviously knows more." Agent West insisted. "He's surrounded by four men and the only details he can give is one of them had a gold tooth."

"After a crack on the head like that, he's lucky he can give you his name." Bullock mutter.

Agent Foster looked at the scruffy detective as if he'd crawled from under a stone. "This is obviously an inside job. They never come to the clinic on the same day or at the same time. So someone had to let the gang know when to jump them. And who was in a better position to tell them than the butler?"

Gordon was seething with anger. "And why precisely do you assume the boy's guardian, who everyone we've questioned has said is devoted to the boy, is responsible. Most of our sources have said that Mr Pennyworth loves the boy like his own son, why would he have the boy kidnapped?"

"Jealousy, the boy has money, perhaps he's in desperate need of cash? Anyway don't you think its a bit strange a guy taking over the care of his dead employers son like that?" 

Gordon was looking at the two agents with loathing.

Suddenly they could hear Dr Leslie calling, " Lieutenant Gordon, please, I need your help."

The four men rushed into the room to find Leslie trying to persuade a very unsteady Alfred to get back in bed. The man was hunting around for his clothes. "You shouldn't be up with a head injury like that, there could be underlying bleeding in the brain, we need to keep you under observation for at least 48 hours. For goodness sake Alfred, you know the dangers! Get back into bed!" she ordered.

"Bed, I can't stay here in bed and leave finding Bruce to these idiots." He glared at the two young FBI agents. "For your information young man, you don't have to sire a child to love him like your own. Now where the hell are my clothes. Or do I have to walk out of here dressed like this?"

Sighing heavily Leslie passed the man his clothes. "I won't be responsible for this Alfred, you leave against my advice is that understood?"

"Perfectly." the man said, he then hugged the tearful Doctor tightly for a moment before he started to get dressed.

"If anything happens to him, I am going to hold you two responsible!" Leslie warned the two agents.

Gordon was looking at Alfred with new respect. He knew exactly what he meant with his statement about loving a child that wasn't your own. His mind went back to the previous Saturday, when his wife and he had been allowed to hold, for the first time, the baby girl they hoped to adopt. From the very first second that her little blue eyes had fixed on his face Jim Gordon knew he was willing to die to protect the child. She was his, she owned a large part of his heart, no matter that she had originally been someone else's child, now she was his. Watching the butlers reaction to the news about the boys kidnapping he knew he felt the same way about his ward. 

"Mr. Pennyworth, what do you intend doing, where are you going to start looking?" Gordon asked looking at the man with sympathetic eyes.

Defeated Alfred slumped down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know." he said quietly. But quickly added "I am not staying here, doing nothing though."

Leslie gave an exhausted sigh, "I wash my hands of you, go on kill yourself. See if I care." she spoke with anger in her voice, and it was obvious to all present that she cared.

Alfred took the Doctors hand and squeezed it tight. "I've got to find him, Leslie, please understand." She just looked at him and shook her head.

"Why don't you join Detective Bullock and myself? Come down to the station and look at mug shots you may spot the men who grabbed Bruce."

While Bullock helped Alfred to the car Leslie spoke to Gordon. "If he starts to get drowsy, complains of nausea and double vision, or his speech starts to slur get him to the nearest hospital immediately, is that understood? Then give me a call."

Gordon nodded, "We'll look after him and find the boy. I know Mr. Pennyworth has very little faith in the Gotham Police Force, but I am new here and I intend solving this case."

Leslie smiled at the man "I believe you do." she said.

It took a good hour before Alfred had found the mug shot the man whose tooth he'd knocked out.

"Tony Salvy" Bullock muttered, "It would have to be a nutter like him, wouldn't it."

Alfred looked at the two men, "Who is Tony Salvy?" he asked

"A known gunman never been convicted for killing anyone but he's though to have been behind at least four killings. He's never been involved in a kidnapping before. As far as we know."

Alfred, felt sick, he looked at the two detectives. "So what do we do now?"

They had left Bruce tied up and supposedly drugged. The young man had managed to avoid swallowing the pills. He had spit them down the inside of his shirt. His shirt felt horrible and sticky, Alfred would give him hell when it came to washday he thought. Then he felt a cold empty feeling in his stomach, as he remembered what the men had said. Was Alfred Ok he wondered? At this present moment he would be willing to suffer any punishment Alfred could give, just to know he was all right. Bruce had been working on loosening the rope around his wrists. Although he had caused a nasty rope burn on his left wrist he carried on in a determined way.

Leslie was startled to hear the clinic's phone ringing. It was well after closing time. No one rang after six. She had been sat in her office catching up on paperwork, in truth she just couldn't face going home. Was it Gordon ringing, had they found Bruce? Or had Alfred collapsed? Her hand trembled as she picked up the phone.

"Doctor Thompkins here." she managed to say.

"Tell them we will be ringing to give payment instructions to the boy's guardian in two hours. He better be at Wayne Manor to take the call by then. Or the boy is history." With that the line went dead.

Leslie quickly contacted Gordon and gave him the message. She then set out for Wayne Manor.

The police stopped Leslie at the gates of the Manor. Only when they had checked with Gordon was she allowed through. The house was full of people. Police, telephone engineers, FBI agents and the trustees of Bruce's trust fund. The only people Leslie couldn't see were Alfred and Gordon. Bullock came to meet her. In the opulent surroundings of Wayne Manor the man looked even more scruffy than normal.

" The Lieutenant said to tell you that he and Mr Pennyworth would be in the upstairs study, where it is quieter. The Lieutenant thought your friend needed to have a lay down. He doesn't look so good Doc. The Lieutenant's pretty worried." Bullock said.

Leslie ran up the stairs, she stopped outside the study door to take a deep breath, to calm herself. She opened the door quietly and slid into the room. Gordon was sat next to the couch looking worriedly at the figure stretched out there. Seeing Leslie he quickly walked over to meet her. 

"I am glad your here," Gordon whispered, "he looks pretty bad, he didn't put up a fight when I insisted he have a rest." Jim Gordon had found that the most worrying sign. 

"I am not a complete idiot, Lieutenant, despite what you two may think!" Alfred said his eyes still closed.

Gordon looked back towards the couch then at Leslie a shocked expression on his face, but Leslie just smiled. 

"I don't suppose this is going to be over for a while yet, so I will need to rest. As will you Lieutenant." Alfred said.

Leslie went over and sat on the edge of the couch to check on her friend. "How are you doing?" she asked concerned that he looked so washed out. "Any head aches, double vision, drowsiness or nausea?"

"Not unless you count the nausea I felt watching detective Bullock eating a jam donut, he had found in his desk draw. Goodness knows how long it had been there. It needed the pencil shavings cleaning off it."

Leslie laughed and kissed him. Gordon left them together. 

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

She gave him a tearful smile. "I'll be better when we've got Bruce back safe and well. Will the trustees pay up?" she asked.

Alfred nodded, "Sylvia Prescott came with her husband, she's already told them they will pay whatever the kidnappers demand. She's also put the fear of God into those two clowns from the FBI. I am glad I am not in their shoes."

Suddenly he found he was crying, "Oh Leslie, why didn't I stop them? I am a useless guardian, I just let them take him. I should have stopped them. What I am going to do if anything happens to him?" He kept repeating the last sentence as Leslie held him, she too found herself crying.

Bruce had managed to free one hand when the men returned to the room. He quickly wound the rope around the wrist of his free hand so at a glance it would look as if he was still securely tied. 

"So you've got it clear, we get the guardian to drop the money off; under the water tower at the old gas station. You get him to pick up the two-way radio then instruct him where to leave the money and what to do next. Then you collect the money and come back here. I'll give him instructions as to where to find the boy. I'll be here with the boy until I hear his guardian's car, then I'll leave the boy for him to find. I'll meet you near the back gate. Then it's off down South with a cool two million dollars."

Bruce listened carefully, they weren't getting away with two million of his money. No way!

"Ok, time to make the call."

Gordon stood just inside the door, he felt like he was intruding. The couple sat on the couch were not the boys natural parents but they obviously cared for him deeply. He knew the man would not want to be seen to be crying so he slipped back out of the door. Knocking loudly he called, "ten minutes to the call Mr Pennyworth." 

Gordon watched Leslie help her friend to the bathroom across the hall to get washed. Then he went down stairs to check everything was ready. 

Leslie was holding Alfred's arm to support him as they came down the stairs. Sylvia Prescott met them half way down and took his other arm. "No arguing Alfred, we need you in one piece if we are to get Bruce back."

Alfred smiled at the woman, "Thank you for sorting out the trustees and our friends from the FBI madam." 

Sylvia smiled. "That was a pleasure believe me. There's no problem with arranging the two million ransom Alfred, we've got the Gotham Central Bank ready to supply it in any way the kidnappers want. There are one or two advantages with having a husband who is president of the bank." She smiled tearfully at them.

They sat Alfred next to the phone. A team of technicians was standing ready and Lieutenant Gordon was briefing Alfred on what he had to do. "Let it ring three times then pick up, we are recording everything so don't worry about the details. Just try and keep them on the line for as long as possible."

David Prescott joined his wife and Leslie. All of them were watching Alfred and the phone.

"Is he up to this?" David Prescott asked Leslie. "He looks like death. When they said he'd been knocked out I didn't think it had been this serious."

"No, I don't think he is up to doing this, but there's no choice. He's the one the kidnappers want to deal with. And you know what Bruce means to him. You'd do the same for your sons wouldn't you?"

The man nodded, "Any man would."

"Well Bruce is Alfred's only son and believe me he would die rather than see him hurt." 

The phone rang making everyone jump. Alfred's hand hovered over the receiver, on the third ring he picked it up. The extension speaker let everyone hear.

"You shut up and listen! I know the police are taping this so here's what we want. Two million in used notes, nothing above a fifty. Is that understood. Use that fancy Jag we've seen you going to the shops in. You drive West from the house. When you meet the County Highway turn right. Stop at the old gas station you'll get further instructions there. No tails or the boy is history got that." 

Leslie was shaking her head at Alfred. You can't drive in your condition she mouthed. 

"There's just one problem," Alfred informed the caller. " I'll need a driver, after the crack on the head I've got double vision."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "If the Doc from the clinic there? Then she can come in your place."

"Doctor Thompkins, will drive, I'll bring the money." Alfred said. "No way, I am letting her make the delivery on her own." 

After a pause, "Agreed, you set off in two hours we'll be watching." 

David Prescott left with a police escort to the bank to collect the money.

"We can put homing devices in the cases." Agent West said. 

Alfred shook his head. "No way, we play this one straight." Alfred insisted.

The agent looked at him with suspicion, "You intend letting them get clean away with two million dollars?" he asked.

"Young man they can have every penny of the Wayne Trust and every cent of my money, just so long as we get Master Bruce back safe and sound. I don't care if I have to work as a short order cook for the rest of my life to keep us, I just want my son back!" Alfred was close to tears.

Leslie put her arm around him and led him away. 

Sylvia Prescott touched Alfred's shoulder then went to speak with the FBI agents. "There will be no tracking devices used and you will do nothing to jeopardise the exchange!" she warned the men. " I agree whole heartily with Mr Pennyworth's decision, so you better put me down as number two on your list of suspects." she added sarcastically.

Gordon spoke to Alfred, "Mr Pennyworth, how about a passenger in the trunk? Just as back up. You have my word I would do nothing to endanger your ..Bruce. He was looking straight in to Alfred's eyes, you have my word, on my daughter's life." 

Leslie squeezed Alfred's arm and nodded. "Very well, Lieutenant, and thank you. Call me Alfred, Lieutenant, everyone does."

Leslie insisted Alfred lay down until it was time to leave. "About the double vision," she queried "that was just a ploy wasn't it?" she was evidently worried.

He shook his head, "It's coming and going." he said. Smiling at her worried look, he said, "Mainly going. Honestly Leslie I am fine. My mother always said us Pennyworths had a thick heads." He smiled at her.

She looked at him unconvinced. "This is no joke Alfred, please don't treat me like a fool. If you don't tell me the truth I will make the Lieutenant keep you here, while I deliver the money."

"I am fine Leslie, honest, just a bit light headed and tired that's all. I will tell you if there is a problem."

David Prescott returned from the bank with two large cases. "Two million in used notes mainly fifty dollar bills." he said showing Gordon and the FBI agents.

Gordon watched as Leslie helped Alfred into the front passenger seat of the Jag. Bullock and the FBI agents followed with the money. They placed the cases on the back seat of the car. Alfred showed Leslie the button to open the trunk. He then laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

"How's he doing?" Gordon asked Leslie.

"I am not sure. It could just be tiredness, on top of a head injury. Normally you don't expect patients with that sort of head trauma to spend the day running around. Normal people, follow Doctor's orders and rest." she said.

Gordon looked into the car's trunk. "Well at least it looks comfortable enough." he said. Bullock had taped over the locking mechanism and fixed it so the trunk could be secured from the inside while still being easy to open.

"Time we were off." Gordon said. Taking a flashlight off the nearest Patrolman he climbed in the trunk and secured it. 

Leslie got into the car and started it up. "Are you OK." she asked looking closely at her friend.

"Fine, now let's get off and collect Master Bruce." Alfred said.

It took twenty minutes to reach the County Highway. Leslie turned right as instructed. "Are you all right in the back Lieutenant." she called out.

"Fine thank you Doctor, where are we?"

"We've just turned on the County Highway. It's another five minutes to the abandoned gas station."'

Leslie was glancing at the man sat next to her. His eyes had been closed for the whole journey. "Alfred are you OK!" she asked concerned.

"Yes thank you. I am just following Doctor's orders and resting, that's all Leslie." he said. A smile touched his face, as Leslie glared at him. He hadn't even opened his eyes, but he knew her well enough to judge her reaction.

"When this is over you will, follow Doctor's orders, if I have to tie you to the bed." She hissed at him.

"Now that's something to look forward to." Alfred said.

"There's the gas station." Leslie called to Gordon.

Alfred eyes snapped open and he sat up in his seat.

Leslie brought the car to a halt.

"You stay in the car." Alfred insisted squeezing Leslie's arm. He climbed out of the car and unsteadily walked towards the building. As he passed the old Coke machine he heard a voice. 

"Pick up the radio." Alfred was looking around. "On the floor to your left." Who ever had left the radio was watching. Alfred prayed Gordon would stay put. " Place the money under the water tower then get back in the car. Carry on driving south, once we've got the money we will tell you how to find the boy." 

Alfred hurried back to the car, opening the back door he said "They've left us a radio, I've got to leave the money under the water tower, then we have to drive south. Whoever they are they're watching." Alfred followed the instructions to the letter. Getting back in the car they drove off." 

"Did you spot anyone?" Gordon asked. 

"No one." Alfred said. "Come on where are the instructions?" he begged his voice nearly breaking. 

Suddenly the radio crackled into life, a different voice spoke. "You need to U turn north, then keep driving north for six miles after the gas station, then turn right down the dirt track. It'll lead you to the old canning factory. You'll find the boy in the old pay office." with that the radio went dead.

Leslie swung the car around in an impressive display of driving.

"Come on Leslie, get your foot down!" Alfred said, as a truck blasted it horn at them. 

Bruce had watched the large thug leave forty minutes ago. The man had come over to check on Bruce before he left. The boy held his breath, would the man notice that he had managed to free his hands? Again the man gently poked Bruce in the stomach with the toe of his shoe. Bruce managed not to react. Satisfied the man walked away.

"You'll have the easy part, he's still out of it." the man said to his smaller partner. "It's a good job someone loves him, you wouldn't catch me parting will two million bucks to get him back."

His friend laughed, "The two million belongs to the kid! He's the only one out of pocket!"

"Still I wouldn't pay." the large man said.

"You've got everything, you know what to do and what to say?"

"Sure I do!" the large man said "I am, not a dummy." With that he left the room. 

Twenty minutes later Bruce could hear the men speaking over the radio. "Ok I am in position. The radio is hidden next to the Coke machine. All we need is for them to show. Hang on this looks like them coming."

Bruce had decided not to make his move until Alfred and Leslie had dropped off the money. He had heard the two men talking after they had called to make their demands. He knew Alfred was hurt and because of that Leslie was coming with him to deliver the ransom. He didn't want do anything until he knew they were safely away from the large thug. Bruce had seen the man loading his pistol before he left.

He heard a whoop off delight, "It's here, all here, two million lovely bucks. All ours tax free!" the tinny voice laughed over the radio.

The small laughed "Easy money. I told you so. Make sure you tip it all into the trunk, cover it over and dump the cases, just in case they've bugged them." he ordered. 

After another few minutes Bruce heard, "Ok, I am clear, there's no tails. See you in twenty minutes at the back gate." the large man radioed back.

Bruce heard his captor giving Alfred direction. He had his back to Bruce. Swiftly the boy untied his hand, picked up a stool and just as the man finished giving directions brought it crashing down on the his head. 

He watched the man fall. Waited for a minute to see if he moved before tapping him with his foot. The man was well and truly unconscious. Bruce swiftly tied him up. 

He picked up the radio, "Alfred, are you there, Alfred?"

"Master Bruce, is that you son? Are you all right, they haven't hurt you have they? Hold tight son we're nearly there!" 

Bruce felt hot tears running down his face as he heard his friend's voice.

"I am OK Alfred, are you?"

"Just fine son."

Bruce heard Leslie mutter something, it sounded as if she said Liar.

"Are you sure?" the boy asked unconvinced.

Alfred glared at the driver, "I am perfectly well Sir." he assured the boy. 

"I've knocked out and tied up the man holding me here." the boy said with pride. "He should be meeting the man with the money at the back gate anytime now. I going to go and stop him escaping, meet me there."

Alfred stared at the radio in disbelief. "You will do nothing of the kind young man, is that understood? Get yourself out of there and hidden until we arrive, do you hear me." Alfred's voice held an edge of panic in it. God, the Boy would get himself killed if he wasn't careful.

"Sorry Alfred I can't hear you!" the Boy lied. "I'll see you at the back gate."

Leslie was looking as panic-stricken as Alfred felt. She put her foot down hard on the gas. It was only thanks to the cars excellent handling qualities that they stayed on the dirt track at all.

"Did you hear that Lieutenant Gordon?"

"He's not serious is he, the young fool? Who the hell does he think he is Superman?"

"Oh he's serious." Alfred said.

Bruce had left the building and was hidden next to an old car dumped at the side of fence. In the distance he could see car lights bobbing along the road. That had to be Alfred and Leslie. He swiftly ran in the opposite direction. He stopped as he heard the large man talking loudly.

"Mike, Mike, come on Mike, there almost here. Mike can you hear me? Mike? Blasted radio."

Bruce dived towards the bush that was growing near the back gate. He could hear the man hitting the radio on the car roof. Next he heard the man run past him back towards the factory. 

Quickly Bruce opened the hood of the car. He had helped Alfred work on the cars on the estate ever since he was five. He had spent hours with his friend stripping down engines, so it took him only seconds to find and remove the car's Rotor arm. Smiling he slung it over the fence and closed the hood. This car and the two million dollars in the trunk would be going nowhere.

The large man had found his friend, Bruce saw him lumbering back towards the car carrying him. He placed the man on the back seat and was trying to start the engine as Leslie skidded the Jag to a halt. 

Jim Gordon quickly released the trunk and with his gun drawn headed towards the other car. The man inside was still frantically trying to get it started. Gordon yanked the drivers door open. "Police, get out of the car." Gordon shouted. The large man made for his gun before he noticed the Lieutenant's gun pointing right at his head. Raising his hands he exited the car. "Throw the gun over here." Gordon growled menacingly. The man complied.

Bruce was surprised to see Leslie get out of the driver's side of the car, he raced over to hug her.

"Oh darling, you're safe," she kept repeating hugging him tight.

He pulled away from her, "Where's Alfred?" he ask worried. Leslie nodded to the passenger's side.

He went to open the passenger's door, Alfred was laid back against the headrest his eyes closed.

"Alfred?" the boy asked concerned.

The man opened his eyes. "If you ever do disobey me again when I tell you to do something young man, you won't sit down for a week. Is that understood?" Alfred's said his voice stiff with anger.

The boy nodded. Then seeing the tears on his friend's face he lent into the car and hugged him. Alfred returned the hug. "Son, don't you ever worry me like that again." Alfred said his voice breaking.

Bruce gently touched the bandage on his friend's head. "You are all right, aren't you Alfred?"

"He will be, once he follows Doctor's orders and get some rest. Instead of chasing around the county." Leslie said sternly. 

Suddenly a scuffle broke out behind them. The large man had quickly turned and knocked Gordon off his feet. He grabbed the Lieutenant's gun. Racing towards the Jag he pushed Bruce out of the way, not realising the car was a right hand drive. "Get out!" he ordered pointing the gun at Alfred. 

Alfred didn't move. 

"I am serious get out!" The man screamed. 

Leslie and Gordon watched horrified as Alfred shook his head. "No." he said.

"On your head be it then." The man said squeezing the trigger.

Suddenly the gun was flying out of his hand. Bruce's kicked had been right on target.

Gordon scrambled for the gun. He soon had his prisoner under control, laid spread eagle on the floor.

In the distance sirens could be heard converging on them. Within minutes Bullock, the FBI agents, three squad cars and an ambulance joined them. 

Bruce was sat on his guardian's lap holding him tight. The boy initial euphoria at disarming the man had turned shock, when he stopped to consider what could have happened if he had failed. Leslie was sitting in the driver's seat stroking the back of the boy's head.

It took a full fifteen minutes for Bruce to calm down. Alfred held him tight while Leslie stroked his hair. "Come on son, you did well." Alfred assured him.

"I'll drive you folks home." Gordon said. Bullock had already loaded their prisoners into the squad cars.

Leslie, Bruce and Alfred climbed into the back seat. Alfred put his arm around the boy, laid his head back and closed his eyes.

The two FBI agents approached the car. 

"I think you'll find everything's taken care of gentlemen. We've got the boy back, caught the criminals and saved the money. You can apologise to Mr Pennyworth whenever you want."

Agent Foster looked at Gordon with contempt. "We still need to question Mr Pennyworth about how the perpetrators knew they would be visiting the clinic that day."

"Sherry." Bruce said. "The small man Mike, said Sherry at the clinic was their inside contact."

"Oh, no." Leslie said. "Then all this was my fault. I was the one who let them know you would be visiting. I always told Sherry, so she knew to let you in the back way."

Leslie supplied Sherry's name and address to the agents.

"Seems like we do owe you an apology sir." Agent West said.

"Don't mention it." Alfred replied not bothering to open his eyes.

Gordon looked at Alfred, then Bruce. "You two look like you need to get home and have a good nights sleep." 

He noted the boy was already asleep. His head resting on his guardians shoulder.

Gordon smiled at Leslie and Alfred. "Let's get him home."


End file.
